


The Wait for Water

by OberonsEarring



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:14:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21802738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OberonsEarring/pseuds/OberonsEarring
Summary: Jean is back from the dead.  Scott thinks he's made a choice.
Relationships: Jean Grey/Scott Summers, Logan (X-Men)/Scott Summers
Comments: 15
Kudos: 66





	The Wait for Water

It was small. Round. A tiny medallion on a leather strip, a token. Something that no one would notice. Not even Jean. 

She looked at him, rising naked from her bed, and he quickly shoved the necklace into his pocket where she would never find it. 

She yawned and stretched, folded her blankets down and crawled into his lap. “You're wearing your pants,” she said disappointed, a plump kiss to his neck. She smelled of sunflowers and coconut, and her lips were ruby, even without makeup. He slid his hands around her slender waist, smiled at her as she enveloped him in a deep kiss. “Merry Christmas,” she said. “Do you want your gift now or later.”

Quickly, he looked down to the floor to avoid her gaze. “I have a mission today, remember?” 

Of course, she hadn't forgotten, but there was something else on his mind. “You're upset with me?” she asked.

“No. Not at all. The Quiet Council is doing what needs to be done, and so am I.” 

“Don't die this time,” she said quietly, stroking his jaw with the back of her hand. “I hate it when you die.”

Every morning was like this now, her worry, her fear. She lacked the confidence of the Phoenix, that cosmic being that would make her more powerful than a star. “You're quiet,” she continued, her eyes squinted just slightly, not just out of concern, but also concentration. He could feel her in his mind, nudging at the walls that he had put up. The walls she had taught him to create when he wanted to keep his thoughts private. “What aren't you showing me?” she asked. 

“Peeking without asking first?” he replied. “That's unlike you, Jean.”

“There's something you're not telling me, and whatever it is, it's hurting you.” She took a breath, her eyes trying to peer through the ruby red quartz of his visor. “It's hurting us.” She saw it, the sudden tension that racketed across his jaw. The clenching of teeth, the stress of his entire body. “Whatever you're protecting me from, I can take it, Scott. I really can.” 

She thought it was about Emma, his time with her, that he still had feelings for her. But, he swore it wasn't. She'd already left him. They made their resolutions to each other – that they would care about each other, but that their relationship had failed after they had been possessed by the Phoenix. But, even if that weren't true, Jean had returned to him. He wouldn't hurt her again.

“I'm a better man because of you,” he told her, finally forcing a smile.

“But, you're not a happy man,” she said sadly, rising from his lap and shivering herself into a robe. “Who is she, Scott?”

“What makes you think there's another woman?”

“Polaris? Dazzler? Psylocke?”

A visible relief played across his shoulders as she continued her list of woman. From Sage to Storm, he smiled ever brighter. “You're the only woman for me,” he assured her, and for the first time in a month, he projected the truth of that thought to her. “See?”

She collapsed into his embrace, a slight hum upon her lips. “I love you, Scott Summers.”

“I love you, too, Jean Grey.”

Stepping outside into the hallway, they were met by Wolverine leaning against the wall. There was a pause, a moment of uncomfortable silence. “Jeannie. Slim.”

Scott looked to the floor. “I've told you about smoking in here.”

“And, I've told you that I don't care.”

“Can't you guys get along?” Jean sighed, blue eyes rolling to the ceiling. 

Logan followed them down the hallway and into the intricately decorated living room. Gabriel, Nathan, and Rachel had been working on it for days. “What do you think, Dad?” Rachel cheered as they entered the room. 

“Very nice.”

It was to be their first holiday together as an entire family, that was until the Quiet Council decided to send him back into the world to deal with yet another crisis. “You're sure you don't want us to wait for you?” she asked.

“No. You deserve to celebrate the day, as do all of you.”

“Sounds like you think you don't deserve it,” Logan grumped in the corner. Arms across chest, he snorted at the eyes that set on him. “Don't act so surprised. He's a fucking martyr.” Scott said nothing – not in offense or defense. Jean watched him closely, the tint of red along his cheekbones, the way he looked at the floor, avoiding the argument entirely. “Always looking out for the good of others.”

“Logan,” Alex bit in. “Calm it down, _bub_.”

“You don't tell me what to do, you half-ass excuse for a Summers bro---”

“That's enough!” Jean yelled, standing between the warring men. “What on earth is going on?” No one answered her.

“I'm going to be late,” Scott finally spoke into the awkward silence. With a kiss to Jean's cheek and a wave to the rest, he walked into the gate and disappeared.

Xavier greeted him at the other end, once again briefing him on the state of the gate. “I'm sorry to send you out on Christmas. I know you were looking forward to family time.”

“It's okay, Professor. The good work needs to be done, and I'm the one to do it.” 

Cyclops listened intently to his briefing – the hackers at the gate in Tokyo, how they were using cyber-mechanics to change the gate's location. “So far, they've done no harm. I think it's just a prank, but the ability to move the gate – even just an inch – is a danger to us and the world at large. Imagine the possibilities if such tech were to be used in criminal pursuits.”

Of course, Scott understood all of this from the original meeting yesterday. He'd offered to go then – leave through the gate – but the Council had told him to wait until morning. It was bad enough that they were sending him out on Christmas, they wouldn't take Christmas Eve from him too. 

His hand in his pocket, his thumb gently stroked the leather necklace.

Tokyo was as bright and busy as always. A rush of people, traffic, the glitz and motion of neon signs and railways. The gate to Krakoa was perched just beyond Harijuku, a fifteen minute walk to the Yamanote line. 

He was greeted by guns and other weapons. Though he had saved the world so many times, he was still unwelcome in it. “I'm here about the gate,” he told the soldiers in perfect Japanese – a language Jean had downloaded into his head. “Charles Xavier sent me to deal with it.” Calls through comlinks, and eventually, after much discussion, Scott was cleared to enter.

Without his costume, no one recognized him, and that anonymity felt almost good. Almost. He was on a mission, and he had to be savvy about it. While he'd been able to program hundreds of Danger Room scenarios and knew the basics of hacking - computers were still not his forte. And how a computer could interact with a plant, he had no idea, but Xavier had a suspicion that they were dealing with children, and he wanted to send someone who would intimidate them into stopping, and who was more intimidating than Cyclops – the man who faced the world and didn't flinch.

“Scott!”

He froze at the sound of that voice.

“Scott!”

“You can't be here.”

“Please.”

“Logan, you can't be here,” he said again without breath. His features paled, he looked down at the shorter mutant. “Please, don't do this.”

“I'm not giving up.”

“I told you, I'm not hurting her again.”

“So, you're okay with hurting me?”

Scott said nothing, turned around and waded through the throngs of cos-players and tourists. He couldn't do this, not tonight, not ever. It was hard enough to keep the matters of his heart from Jean, and worse still that Logan was a constant reminder of what he was leaving behind, but he couldn't do this. “How'd you get through the gate?”

“Told Chuckle-head that I was following. He knew better than to argue.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you?”

“I'm on a mission.”

“So am I.” Logan reached his hand to gently touch the side of Cyclops' face. “Please,” he said.

Scott felt his heart flutter at the touch, felt the sadness of his decision. “I want to be a good man.”

“You are a good man.”

“To her, Logan. I want to be a good man to her.”

Silence then as they walked. Each man stuck in his own thoughts. 

Jean was dead. They all were, the X-men. They were gone and not coming back, and in each other's arms, they'd both found solace from the world that wanted them dead. 

It wasn't supposed to mean anything – just a booze soaked night where the two of them went too far. There had been heat between them, but that was it, or so they thought. They were wrong. The next morning, they lingered in the bed, silently enjoying each other's company – Scott with his hangover, Logan ready for another round. The kisses had been soft, and the dialogue pleasant. 

Three days, they didn't leave the room, with only Alex questioning their absence. Though it took him several weeks to piece the puzzle together, he didn't think it was a good idea. Scott was losing his edge – his happiness was backing them into a corner that they wouldn't be able to escape from.

And then Jean returned from the dead once again. Scott made his choice.

Wolverine kept a pace behind him, sniffing the air for trouble whenever Scott stopped to look at his watch. The watch was a tracker of the signal, but thus far, it hadn't picked anything up. And, the longer they walked, the more he was glad that Magneto had the foresight to give him cash for a room if he needed it. 

It was lunchtime before Logan spoke again, this time complaining about his fast metabolism and the need for beer. “I know Mags gave you a shit ton of cash,” he said, grabbing Scott by the arm. “Might as well make use of it. I can hear that you're hungry, too.”

In all honesty, Scott didn't want to stop. Regardless of how hungry he was, he didn't want to sit across the table from Logan. Didn't want the conversation. Didn't want to feel himself so drawn into the man that he could ruin Jean's life once again. He looked at Logan, expected to be firm, but was surprised at what came out of his mouth. “Fine.”

It was a small place, tucked away outside the busy streets of Harijuku proper. They were the only customers, ordering up bowls of eel and rice. It was a taste that Logan recognized, that unsettled him, brought him back to his time here, to the loss of Mariko. Scott could see them – all in red – those memories as they played across his face. For a second, he thought Logan was going to bring out his claws, but the moment passed. “This is some good eel,” he finally said, mashing the fish into his rice.  
Scott nodded with a slight smile. “Good rice, too.”

They fell to silence again, both eating away and trying to avoid the hard conversations. Scott wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch the man, to feel the strength of his arms again, but he stayed himself, as he'd been doing for over a month. “You make it too hard on yourself, Scotty,” Logan said, his blue eyes flicking upward to meet visor for a moment. “You wear your guilt like a fucking shirt.”

“At least I wear a shirt,” Scott snarked back, taking another bite of his food. Logan smiled – the first time in a month that he'd done so – and he could feel the pain of it, that it had been absent for so long. 

“There's no one watching us, Scott.”

“I made vows to her, Logan. I can't break them again.” He was done with his meal then. Though only half full, he stood from his chair and left, not bothering to look back to see if Wolverine had followed him. 

And he hadn't. Logan stayed behind, and that made Scott feel even worse.

He walked until nightfall, keeping a close eye on his watch. His travel pack had gotten heavy over the course of the day, and he found himself in need of both food and rest. He would try again tomorrow, and hopefully something would come of it. The hotel he chose was to the east of the main streets, away from the noise and bustle. And for the first time in hours, as he entered the room, things were quiet.

He shuffled himself out of his clothing and turned on the shower. It wasn't long before the steam had clouded his visor, and thoughts of Logan began churning in his head. The way he looked at him in the mornings when he first woke up. Always surprised that Scott was up so early, but always quick to be alert. He'd ask if there was trouble, why they couldn't sleep in, how on earth he could live with so little relaxation. Then the kiss. That morning peck on his shoulder as Scott made breakfast, the way he'd linger just behind, the scent of him more enticing than the omelets. The thrill of his touch – those calloused hands, the burn of his whiskers on his skin. How gentle he could be. How rough. 

He turned the shower to ice cold, doused himself in discomfort and thoughts of Jean. Once, she was his everything. He couldn't tell her the truth. Not this time. Not when it had taken them so long to be together in a place that accepted them, surrounded by family, with a chance to finally be happy.

Checking his watch one last time for the signal, he snugged himself into the blankets and quickly went to sleep. He didn't hear Logan enter, so tired he was. He didn't see Logan undress, or feel him dip underneath the covers to wrap his arms around him. 

All he felt was warmth and dream. 

Logan smelled her before he saw her, but no longer cared to hide. Naked, he answered her slight knock on the door, unimpressed that she'd come. He stepped out into the hallway, not caring about the awkward looks he received from drunken tourists. “One day,” he said. “You promised me one day.”

“It's three a.m. You've had your day.” 

“Please.” Hand wrung through hair, he stared up at her, his eyes glassy with heartbreak. “Please. I love him.”

“But, does he love you?” She didn't intend to sound so cruel, but still her words struck hard at the older mutant. She wiped the tear from his cheek. “I'm sorry, Logan. But, it's his choice. It always was.” She could give him all the time in the world, but her husband was stubborn, and though she knew that behind those walls, he was hiding the depth of his feelings for Wolverine, she wasn't going to pry him apart to understand. “To him it was a fling, one that he's ashamed of now. You have to resolve this. For his sake.”

She turned, her bag over her shoulder. “I'll give you the week. If he can't admit that he loves you by then, this is over.”

Logan wilted back into the room, looked down at Scott still asleep on his side. He was beautiful, in the crack of moonlight spreading out through the window. Wolverine laid back down beside him, hopeful that he doesn't wake up. Not yet. Not when he looked so peaceful, so far removed from his responsibilities. A gentle kiss to that small soft place beneath his ear, the one that used to make him crazy.

“Logan,” Scott whispered in his sleep, and Wolverine held him tightly.

He laid still. As still as he possibly could. Afraid of disturbing this aching moment, the feel of Logan against his spine, his hands on his chest, beneath the fabric of his pajama top. He savored it, the warmth, the breath-stealing need that broiled in the bottom of his stomach. A month was far too long. 

Logan woke, shifted himself against Scott, his manhood hard and ready. “Good morning,” he whispered, taking the moment to smooth back that chestnut hair and to press a kiss at that magical spot beneath his ear. Cyclops moaned softly, craning his neck so that Logan could get better access. “Good morning,” Logan repeated, creaking his fingers down buttons, opening up to that warm, bare skin beneath. Scott shivered with the touch, still too much in dream to stop him. “Good morning,” he repeated a third time, his fingers dipping down beneath waist band, wrapping around the half-engorged member.

Scott jolted then, sat up with a start, fell off the bed in the force of his movements. Mouth open wide, speechless, he looked at Logan, his breath held. It took him minutes to get hold of himself, to calm down, button his top back up. “I thought you went home.”

“Wherever you're at is my home, Slim.” He kept his distance as he paraded across the room unashamed of his nudity. He plugged in the small kettle, warming the water for coffee while Scott sat on the bed and watched.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I know I'm hurting you.”

“And yourself,” Logan added.

“I love her, too.”

“But you're not in love with her. Not anymore. That ship has sailed.”

“But, I could be. If I try hard enough, she could be everything I need.”

“I'm what you need, bub. I'm also what you want.” 

Logan handed him a cup of coffee, watching as Scott deliberated his options in the back of his mind. “We're on a mission,” he told his leader. “Let's drink up and get going.

The chill in the air was almost pleasant to Cyclops. It kept him focused and ready. But no signal was found. They returned to the eel restaurant for lunch, even managing a conversation that didn't hinge on Scott's unwillingness to leave Jean for him. They spoke of the Summer House, and how quickly the Summers family had gelled – especially Gabriel, whom Scott thought would feel too alien to fit in. “He seems to like the idea of presents.”

“Yeah, well, he ain't the only one. I think Nathan about wet his pants when he saw you put that under the tree.”

“He thought it was a gun.”

“What was it actually.”

“A video game system. I thought he needed a chance to be a normal kid for once.”

Another day of useless watching and waiting. Yakitori for dinner. Beer once they got back to the room. They sat across the small table from each other, the six pack almost gone. “I miss this,” Logan said, drawing his finger over Scott's hand. “A lot.”

Cyclops' smile quickly faded, but he didn't shy away from the touch. Instead, he stared at it. Watched Logan draw the shape of his hand, his knuckles, before twining them together. He swallowed hard, finally taking his gaze upwards into blue. “Jean,” he said quietly, his voice roughened with the lump in his throat.

“Tell her that you love me.”

“I-I can't --”

“Stop tearing yourself apart and tell her the truth,” Logan said softly, rising from his chair and kneeling down to the floor. Hands on Cyclops' knees, he stared up into visor. “You're hurting her even more by denying how you really feel. She knows something's wrong, Scott. She knows that you're unhappy.”

“But, I can become happy--”

“Not without me.”

The kiss was sudden, bruising, all teeth and smashed lips. Logan launched himself across his used-to-be-lover, surrounding him with his strong arms, and spreading his legs apart with his knee. At first, Scott resisted the attempt, trying to push him back, but Logan was relentless. Kiss after kiss, touch after touch, until Scott finally kissed him back.

They were like water then. Dancing towards the bed. The quickened flow of discarded clothes. The spray of moans lighting across the silence. Fluid and rippling, they sparked across each other, their mouths and hands and legs a tangle. Scott arched his back as Logan found the growing bulge in his pants. “Ah shit,” the older mutant cursed. “You're ahead of me.”

Scott nearly erupted in laughter, taking that moment to lift his hand to Logan's stubble, to look into his eyes. There was hesitation there, just upon his lips, but there was also need just behind that. Wolverine bent down for a softer, gentler kiss, the kind that he knew Scott liked best. Slow, a trickle of water, the touch of rain. And Cyclops fell into it, the slow rhythm of tongues as they swept across teeth and jaw. The way that Logan tasted – tobacco and beer and someone that he loved. 

Breathless, they broke from the kiss, stared at each other for long, tender moments. “I miss you, too,” Scott said, his voice cracked with emotion. From behind the visor, a tear escaped. “I miss you, too.”

Things went slowly then, their love making. Those secret spots that they had found upon each other, those little enticing places that brought a cascade of sounds. They took their time exploring, as if this were their first time all over again. 

They came one after the other. Scott first, Logan last. Wolverine lapped the seed from Cyclops' stomach as he carefully pulled out of his lover, and then fell exhausted beside him. Silence. A good silence. One of fulfillment, of satiation. Of two lovers who had found each other again. Logan pulled himself over Scott's chest, his fingers tracing the muscles of those lean long arms, and soon they were both asleep.

The following days were bliss, especially after the kids were finally found. Out of fear, they handed over their precious equipment and promised never to interfere with the gate again. They explored the streets of Tokyo, Logan showing Scott some of his favorite places, and Scott wondering how they survived them. They celebrated the New Year, holding hands, watching the fireworks from the top of Tokyo 101. 

They were in love. 

But then, it was over. The week was up, and Scott couldn't delay his return to Krakoa any longer. “Are you going back to her?” Logan asked, his heart beating a marathon in his chest.

“I don't know,” he said. “I don't know what to do. I don't want to leave you.”

“Tell her, Scotty. It'll be okay.”

They'd waited on him – his family. Waited for him to return to the lights and decorations, the gifts and the cookies. Though he'd wanted them to celebrate, they decided to do it as a family. They all wondered why he wasn't smiling.

“I need to talk to you,” Scott said to Jean after the gifts had been opened and dinner had been served. Quietly he led her into her bedroom. She smiled gently at him, smoothing back his hair as he collected himself. “There's a moment I want you to see,” he said. That soft, warm kiss, Logan's hand threaded through his hair. “I'm sorry for hurting you again.”

Jean smiled. Though hurt, she also understood. “I was gone for so long, sweetheart. Of course, things would change. I will say, though, that Logan's got his work cut out for him. I'm going to fight to get you back.”

In shock, Scott could barely speak. “Why aren't you yelling at me?”

“You may be good at hiding your thoughts from me, but your brother isn't. You really need to teach him about psi-shields. I'm just happy to be a part of this family, Scott. Happy to be around my children, and you – my best friend.”

She took the small leather necklace with it's gold plated medallion from his hand, put it on around his neck, and telepathically reached out to Logan. “You've won for now,” she spoke into his mind. “It's time to celebrate. Come be apart of our family.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know - it's a touch rushed on the end, but I'm still trying to finish Redemption (and almost there!). So, a little holiday story because it's that time of year. Enjoy!


End file.
